The Begining of the End
by Keesha
Summary: Ever wonder how that phrase got on the bench in the jail cell at Jericho. Here is one possible scenario.
1. Chapter 1

The Beginning of the End

by Keesha

6/14/07

_Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Jericho" are the creations of others and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. _

"Wipe that smile off your face, Mr. Green. Attendance in this class counts as 25 of your final grade. I guarantee you are failing attendance," the math teacher lectured as he walked back up the aisle after handing out tests he had graded the previous night.

Stanley leaned over and glanced at his best friend's exam. "98!" he exclaimed. "I come to this stupid class every single day and the best I can do is a 58! You, you come once a week and get a 98! That is so not fair."

Jake Green shrugged his shoulders and continued to smirk even though he felt bad for Stanley.

"Not fair," Stanley griped again as the bell rang. He gathered up his books and both boys rose and started for the door with Jake, as usual, in the lead.

"Mr. Green, a word please," the teacher requested.

"I'll see you in the lunch room Stan," Jake said sauntering over to the teacher's desk.

The taller boy nodded. "I'll save you a seat."

Jake arrogantly leaned against the heating unit, studying Mr. Piela. The teacher went on erasing the board waiting for the rest of the students to clear the room.

The ruggedly handsome boy already knew what this was going to be about. He'd been through this so many times that, he could give the speech himself. The teacher was an ancillary object in this farce.

Every year one of his teachers felt compelled to give him 'The Lecture' as Jake had come to think of it. He wondered if they drew straws in the break room to see whose turn it was to give the 'straighten out and fly right' speech. Jake snorted. Did these stupid teachers think they could possibility say anything that he would give a crap about?

Jake pondered as to why Mr. Piela had gotten the honor of giving the speech this year. Probably because he was the new teacher on the block, fresh out of a big city high school. Piela probably thought he knew how to handle a kid like Jake, since he was a hot-shot teacher from the big city.

When the room was empty, Piela turned around to face him. "You know Jake, you are a smart kid. If you would apply yourself and be a little more…"

Jake brusquely cut the teacher off. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look Mr. Piela, I have heard this all before, more times than you can imagine. How'd it get to be your turn? Lost the vote? Draw the short straw? Leave the room at the wrong time?" he queried sarcastically.

Mr. Piela chose to ignore the snipes and forge on. "I have seen your scholastic records and…"

"Pretty impressive huh?" Jake interrupted again. "Gotta love those achievement test scores. Attendance is a bit spotty though as you already pointed out."

Mr. Piela cleared his throat valiantly plowing forward. "I know you are a senior, but it is not too late. With a little work, you could still get into a good college. I have seen it happen in my last school. You simply need to…"

"I'm not interested in college," Jake stated bluntly. "I am interested in getting the hell out of this town, flying, and going to lunch…now!"

"College would be a way out Jake," Mr. Piela volleyed.

Jake snorted. "I don't think I'm college material."

"That's not what I see. Again if you would only…"

"Enough," Jake snarled. "Look, are we done here? 'Cause I'm missing lunch and I am have been told I show talent in that area too."

The teacher sighed knowing he was getting nowhere fast. "Go."

Jake flipped him a cocky salute and hurried out of the room.

Mr. Piela went back to erasing the board shaking his head sadly. He had given it the old college try and failed miserably, just as the others had predicted. It wasn't like he hadn't been warned by the rest of the faculty members. However, Piela had thought his experience in the inner city schools would give him an edge over these small town teachers. Piela had been confident, over-confident as it now seemed, that he could reach Jake.

Piela sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Jake was a bright kid but a troublemaker. He was a kid who knew he was going down a one way street the wrong way and didn't give a damn. How do you reach a kid like that? He was confident about one thing, Jake was going to crash and burn some day and Piela couldn't help wondering if there would be anything left to rise from the ashes, like the proverbial phoenix. He brushed the chalk dust from his hands and headed for the break room speculating on how much ribbing he would have to endure from his colleagues on his failure.

2

"Hey, over here," Stanley yelled, waving his bud over to the table he had commandeered. Jake nodded in acknowledgement and strolled over. Emily was sitting at the table with Stanley and Jake slid in next to her. "Hey babe."

"Hey babe yourself. Where were you?" she asked.

"Getting 'The Lecture'," Jake answered quoting the words with his fingers in the air.

"Ah, college. Straighten up and fly right. Yadda, yadda, yadda. And how did that go?"

"Same as usual," Jake answered as he reached across the table to snag some of Stanley's ketchup-covered fries. Stanley pretended to scowl as he slid the plate of fries and a cheeseburger across to his friend.

"Thanks," Jake acknowledged as he picked up the burger and took a bite.

"No problem," Stanley said unable to maintain he charade. A big grin broke out across his face as he produced a second plate of food from the bench and happily consumed it.

Jake swallowed and laughed. "Two plates Stan?"

"Hey I maybe dumb, but I ain't stupid. I know you Jake."

"Yeah, that's what Piela thought too. Was gonna save me from myself," Jake said thinking back on his conversation as he absentmindedly twirled a fry between his fingers.

"You don't wanna be saved Jake," Emily said, half-jokingly. "You like being the bad boy."

"Ya think?" he replied quirking an eyebrow at her.

Emily nodded.

Leaning over, Jake gave her a kiss. "And you like hanging with the bad boy don't you?" he whispered in her ear. "Wanna hang tonight?"

Emily blushed as she giggled.

Jake leaned back to include Stanley in the conversation. "No, seriously. What's say we all go out to Tanner's? You know they don't card there."

"How are we going to get there oh brilliant one?" Stanley asked, looking about the table for more food since he had finished everything on his plate. The strawberry–blonde had to settle for stealing some fries back from Jake's plate.

Jake gave him a 'hey' look but Stanley gave him a toothy grin and kept right on eating the fries.

"I'll drive," Jake tossed out.

Stanley mumbled around the food in his mouth. "Aren't your driving privileges currently parentally revoked after your latest stunt?"

A slow sly grin slid across Jake's face. Oh yeah but it had been worth it. Jake, flying his Grandpa's crop duster had buzzed the football hero and then let loose a little fertilizer on the convertible the boy had been driving. Unfortunately, the stupid kid got so flustered he drove off the road into a drainage ditch. The star quarterback had hurt his knee in the crash and was now sidelined for the rest of the season. Needless to say, Jake wasn't the most popular guy with the football team at the moment.

He also was not on the top ten list at home either. In fact, he'd prefer to forget his father's reaction to the whole situation. It involved numerous loud lectures that cumulated in a no fly, no drive, grounded for life edict.

The only person in his family who seemed to find any amusement in the stunt was his Grandfather. He'd been sitting in the plane at the time of the event egging Jake on, not that the old coot would admit it in public. In front of his daughter and son-in-law, i.e. Jake's Mom and Dad, his Grandpa had given Jake a stern lecture. But later, in private, his Grandpa had slapped him on the back and given him pointers on how to do it better next time.

"Yeah, well, but look," Jake said returning to the present, "I know how to get around the transportation problem. Mom and Dad are going to my Aunt Rose's party tonight and they aren't going to be home until sometime tomorrow. Dad will drive, he'll take his truck and that leaves us Mom's car."

"What about keys? I don't think your folks are just gonna leave the keys laying around, especially since you are not suppose to be mobile," Emily pointed out.

"Not an issue," Jake returned.

"You have a set of your Mom's keys?" she inquired.

"No, but ya know, that is not a bad idea. I could get a hold of them and con Joe over at Fisher's hardware to make me a spare set. Great idea Em," he praised while leaning over and giving her another kiss. "But for tonight, we'll just hotwire it."

"When did you learn how to hotwire a car Johnston Jacob Green?" Stanley said in a mock-stern voice.

"Junior," Jake added.

"Junior," Stanley dutifully repeated.

Emily's features darkened. "I don't know when but I know where, at the compound. I don't like you hanging out there Jake."

Jake brushed a stray blond hair back from Emily face. "Don't worry babe. It's fine."

"But Jake…"

"Shush," he replied, sealing the command with another kiss.

"What about your brother Eric. Won't he rat you out?" asked Stanley.

Jake swung his leg over the bench. "I can handle Eric. So it's a deal? Tanner's tonight?"

Stanley and Emily nodded their concurrence.

"Excellent. Let's meet at my house, say 8:30." With that, the next period bell rang. Emily and Stanley gathered up their trash and headed for the door leading into the hallway. Jake, on the other hand, made a beeline for the door that lead to the outside.

"Where you going Jake?" Stanley queried.

"Home to take a nap. Got a big night planned," and with that he disappeared out the door.

Emily and Stanley stared at each then shrugged.

"Jake," Stanley said.

"Jake," Emily repeated.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jake? Is that you honey?" his mother called out as her oldest son slammed the front door.

"Yeah," he replied dryly. Who else was she expecting?

Gail Green strolled into the entry hall glancing at her watch. "Wow. You are right on time. Guess you're getting the hang of this curfew."

Jake nodded noncommittally. He'd actually left school hours ago and had been sleeping in a neighbor's hammock until he could safely 'get home on time.'

"Your Dad and I are leaving at 7:30 for Aunt Rose's. Gail tone grew stern. "Do I need to remind you that you are grounded and are not to leave this house?"

"I know Mom," he replied in an exasperated manner.

"Well see to it you do not forget," she said reaching out to pat his cheek.

Jake rolled his eyes, sidled away and then bound up the stairs.

"Jake, I mean it," she yelled after him.

Jake was clearing the first landing when he saw Eric exiting his room. "I need to talk to you," he said man-handling his younger brother backwards into the bedroom. He shut the door and leaned against it. "I'm going out tonight and you are NOT going to say a thing to Mom and Dad, got it?"

"Why should I do anything you ask?" Eric retorted.

Jake pushed off the door moving menacingly towards his little brother, who was two years younger but a lot taller. But what Jake lacked in stature he made up in intensity. "Because I have been at school enough this week to have caught your tryst with Nancy in the storage shed."

Eric blushed even though he tried to keep up his bravado. "So?" he replied cavalierly.

Jake got right in his brother's face. "To use an old baseball metaphor, I'd say you were blowing past second and heading for third base with a home run on your mind."

Eric's face blanched. "It wasn't like that!"

"I know what I saw and it was third base, or damn close. I can not help thinking," Jake said deliberating hitting him with his shoulder as he circled behind, "that an unwisely placed word in the preacher's ear about what you and his daughter have been doing might not be so pleasant for you. Or I could mention it to Sandra. You two are dating right?" Jake completed his circuit and got back in his brother's face. "And that, dear brother, is just the beginning of the trouble I can cause. Do you get me?"

Eric involuntarily took a step back under the onslaught. "Look, I won't say anything alright?"

Jake smiled and semi-playfully punched his brother on the arm. "That's all I'm asking," and with that, Jake headed for the door.

"But you know," Eric threw after him, "You're going to get caught. You always do Jake."

Jake's shoulders hunched as his brother's mark hit home but he kept on walking out the door, slamming the it behind him. Jake knew his brother was probably right but he didn't care.

3

"I really don't want to go," Johnston groused as he flung an empty duffle bag on the bed.

"I don't care," Gail replied. "Don't forget to pack a pair of pajamas this time. Last time was embarrassing."

"How was I supposed to know that anyone was going to be up at 2:00 am in the morning when I had to take a whiz," Johnston grumbled walking over to the dresser where his pjs resided. "I had underwear on for God's sake. It wasn't like I was buck-naked."

"To a 92-year-old nun, underwear is buck-naked."

"Humph." Johnston grabbed a pair of clean pajamas and stuffed them to the duffle bag. "Why do we have to go? I'm sure she'll out live us all. Can't we skip this year?"

"At 92, there is no skipping. You celebrate each and every glorious year."

"Well," Johnston countered, "if I live to be 92 I'm not having birthday parties."

Gail came over and patted him fondly on the cheek. "If you live to be 92 and you can do whatever you want."

Johnston locked his arms around his wife's waist. "Anything?" he queried nuzzling her ear.

Gail playfully swatted him. "Let me go you lecherous old man. We have to pack and get going or we'll be late."

Johnston released her. "Like it is going to make a big difference to Aunt Rose. At 92, she should be use to waiting. "

Gail smiled and went back to packing.

"Do you think," Johnston started, trying a new tactic, "that it is wise to leave the boys home alone? After all, Jake is grounded. Do you really think that boy is going to stay put?"

"Do you think that by staying home, you can keep Jake 'put'?" Gail countered. "That boy can get in trouble sitting alone in a room." Gail perched on the edge of the bed. "I'm worried about Jake. Things are getting worse, not better with him. Do you know he has been hanging around Jonah?"

The mayor of Jericho grimaced. "Emily's Dad? Yeah, I have heard that," he said tightly.

"That can't lead to anything good."

Johnston put his arms around his wife's shoulders, drew her close and rested his chin on her head. He had no answer on how to straighten out their son. Once, he and his first born had been close, hunting, fishing, buddies; but somehow that had all slipped away. Now they snapped, snarled, growled and drove each other crazy. Jake defied him every chance he got and Johnston had no clue what to do. "It will be alright," he finally said to his wife even though they both knew it was a lie.


	3. Chapter 3

The car roared to life as Jake's dark head popped up from under the dash. "Thank God Mom still drives an old car. Easier to hotwire."

Emily and Stanley piled into the car as Eric stood and watched from the front porch. Jake glanced over at his stoic brother and had a flash of remorsefulness for once again placing his brother in an awkward position.

As much as Jake was his father's son, Eric took after their mother, always trying to do what was best for all. Where as Johnston and Jake were born leaders, Eric and Gail were natural followers, excellent second-in-commands.

It wasn't easy for Eric to be his brother and in a moment of weakness, Jake tried to bridge the growing gap between them. "Eric, come along with us."

Eric silently shook his head no.

"Come on," Jake cajoled but Eric had already turned away and went back into the house.

"Whatever," Jake mumbled to himself annoyed that his brother wouldn't take the olive branch. "You'd had been no fun anyway." He slid behind the wheel. "Ready?"

"Let's rock and roll," Stanley replied as the party pulled away from the curb.

"Stanley, that is so 80's," Emily chided him.

"Yeah, well, yeah," Stanley replied failing to think of a good come-back.

Emily reached over the seat and patted Stanley on the cheek. "No matter, I still love you."

"Hey!" Jake cried with mock indignation.

Emily leaned over and ruffled Jake's brown hair. "Don't worry, I love you too."

"Look for some songs on the radio why you don't," Jake suggested changing the subject.

Emily fiddled with the radio until she located a rock station. With the music blasting, they continued on their journey.

4

"I swear I did not do this on purpose Gail no matter what you think!"

"We are going to this party if we have to walk the whole way. Now turn this truck around and will switch to my car," she dictated.

"But it's going to take us an hour to get home and then another three hours to get to your Aunt's house. Maybe this is a sign that we shouldn't go. I mean we are going to be really, really late."

"It's OK. She's 92 and use to waiting," Gail threw back in his face. "Now drive."

Johnston sighed and answered "Yes dear." He had been momentarily elated when the truck had started to act up and he knew they wouldn't be able to drive the ailing vehicle all the way to Aunt Rose's house. What he hadn't counted on was his wife determination to get to this party. Damn. He made a U-turn and started to head back down the highway towards home.

A little more than an hour later Johnston and Gail pulled up to the curb in front of their home in Jericho. Gail opened the door and got out. "I'll just go get the keys from where I hid them and we'll be on our way."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Johnston said slowly as he got out of the truck glancing around.

"Now Johnston, we have already been over this and we are going to Aunt Rose's party."

"Then I guess you weren't joking when you mentioned walking as it appears that is our only means of transportation at the moment."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Look around. Notice anything missing?"

Suddenly it dawned on her exactly what was missing. "Oh Jake," she moaned. "How could you."

Furious, Johnston went storming up the front walk like a bull charging the red cape. "Jake! Eric! Front and center!" he bellowed as he burst through the front door. Gail trailed along behind, shaking her head in disbelief at her oldest son's actions. How could he defy them like this?

Eric poked his head up from the couch where he had been watching TV. "Dad?"

"Where is your brother and where is your Mother's car?" Johnston demanded striding up to the couch. Eric quickly sat up but remained mute.

"Am I not making myself clear? Where is your brother and where is that car?" Johnston demanded again.

"I… well I mean… I don't know… he… I don't know?" Eric answered weakly.

Gail came over. "It's OK Eric. Tell your Dad what you know."

"But I promised Mom," he hissed to her. "And Jake said he would… well never mind… I promised."

Johnston leaned down. "Son, trust me. Whatever your brother threatened you with to keep your mouth shut is no where near what I am going to do if you do not tell me right now where that boy went!"

"He, Stanley and Emily went out in Mom's car to Tanner's," Eric blurted out. "They invited me but I said no."

Johnston stood up. "Smart move son. Thank you," he said as he moved towards the door.

"I wonder how Jake found the car keys. I thought I hid them well," Gail mused still shocked that Jake would blatantly disobey them.

"He didn't," Eric mumbled. "He hotwired it."

"What was that?" Johnston ordered stopping dead in his tracks.

"I said he hotwired Mom's car."

Johnston's face turned a deeper shade of red as he restarted his march to the door.

"Johnston, where are you going?" Gail inquired hurrying after him.

"To find that boy," he replied. "And beat the living daylights out of him," he added under his breath.

The front door slammed shut and an eerie silence descended upon the house. Gail walked back to Eric and ruffled her son's hair. "It's OK. You did right by telling your father."

"Come on Mom. Jake isn't going to see it that way," Eric complained.

"I know honey, but it was still the right thing to do. You're a good boy."

"I'll use that to comfort me when Jake beats the crap out of me," Eric answered ruefully.

"Eric, when your father gets done with Jake I'm not sure… well never-mind. I have to go call Aunt Rose and tell her we are not coming after all. What a night."


	4. Chapter 4

"You wanna another beer?" Stanley yelled over the bar noise to Jake.

"Naw. I gotta drive home and I wouldn't want to get arrested for driving under the influence."

"No, of course not. Driving a stolen car is one thing, but driving under the influence," Stanley shook his body in mock terror, "that is a totally different story."

Jake laughed and took another sip from the beer he'd been nursing.

"I want to play pool," Emily stated out of the blue.

Jake looked over at the one and only pool table in the bar. Two burly guys were lounging against it with their drinks. "Looks like it is being used," he replied.

"But they are not playing; they're just leaning against it. Come on. They'll move," Emily said as she picked up her bottle of beer and wobbled across the room.

Jake shrugged and trailed after her.

"Why do I not get a good feeling about this?" Stanley said to no one in particular.

Emily made her way over to the wall where the pool cues were racked and took one down. Moving over to the table, she reached out and rattled the balls in their triangular holder. "Excuse me boys but could you get off the table? We want to play."

The men glanced at her, dismissed her request and went on drinking.

"I said," Emily, repeated more belligerently, "Get off the table."

They continued to ignore her.

Being a few sheets closer to the wind then she should have been Emily did not fully think through her next move. She took the pool cue and jabbed the nearest guy in the middle of the back. Unfortunately, that got her more attention then she really wanted. The men, aggravated, turned to stare at her.

"Now that I have your attention, I ask again. Would you move so my friends and I can play pool?" Emily asked giving them a sweet smile.

Stanley had been wondering when this evening would go south as things always did when he was around Jake. Well now, he had his answer. The moment was about three seconds away.

"Lady, you poke me with that stick again and you're gonna be real sorry," the man threatened.

Stanley, ever the optimist, tried to intervene and smooth things over. "We don't want any trouble."

"Speak for yourself Stanley," Jake said rounding the edge of the table. "She asked you to move and you didn't. I am assuming you understand English and aren't too stupid or in-bred to comprehend the request."

The taller of the two men straightened to his full height. "Did you just call me stupid," he asked menacingly.

"Yep and I made a slur on your family too in case you missed that point," Jake wisecracked.

"Boy, I'm gonna mop the floor up with you."

The fight didn't last long as Tanner's bouncers were large and efficient. Jake, Stanley and Emily quickly found themselves in the parking lot with a stern warning not to return.

Jake dabbed at his bleeding lip with his sleeve. "That was a great idea."

Stanley, who had sustained minimal damage asked, "How do you figure that Jake?"

Momentarily distracted, Jake raised his shirt and looked at the red welt starting to form across his ribs. Damn, getting smacked with a pool cue hurt. Pulling his shirt back over his torso he gazed up at his friend. "Did you pay the bill? I didn't. Hey Em. Did you pay the bill?"

"Nope," she giggled.

"See? We had a night on the town and it really was on the town. Now I say we split before someone remembers and comes out here to collect."

They piled in the car, this time with Emily in the backseat. "I'm going to take a little nap," she announced as she flopped on the seat.

"She can't holder her liquor can she," Stanley noted.

"Nope," Jake replied as he once again got the car to start in the unconventional way. He grinned over at Stanley who shook his head.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

Jake drove out of the parking lot and turned towards home. "Like Emily said, out at the compound."

"You know Jake. There are some pretty bad dudes out there," Stanley said seriously.

Jake shrugged. "So?"

"Well I mean are you sure you want to be hanging around them?"

"Why, because something bad might rub off on me, like hotwiring a car?"

"Come-on Jake, I'm being serious. They have a reputation of having done some really bad things!"

"Stanley, I may be dumb but I ain't stupid," he replied throwing his friend's line back at him. "I know what I am doing. I can handle it."

Stanley remained silent, unconvinced.

Jake reached over and flipped back on the radio. Music filled the void the conversation had left as they headed home.


	5. Chapter 5

Jake saw the red and blue flashing lights before he heard the siren. "What the hell?" he exclaimed looking in the rearview mirror.

It was quite clear that the officers wanted him to pull over. For a split second he thought about trying to out run them and then realized, even he was not that stupid. Jericho was a small town. He was sure the cops had recognized him by now as much as Jake had recognized the officers. Taylor and Whitehall.

Jake slowed down, eased over to the shoulder, came to a halt and shut the car off. 'Damn,' he thought to himself. 'How am I going to start the car again in front of the officers if I have to?'

The two policemen walked slowly up either side of the car, shining their flashlight in the windows.

"Please step out of the car and place your hands on the hood," Taylor, the taller of the two, commanded.

"What's wrong? I wasn't speeding," Jake stated.

"Step out of the car and place your hands on the hood!" Officer Taylor repeated authoritatively.

Jake and Stanley did as ordered while Emily remained asleep in the back seat.

"She Ok?" Whitehall asked gesturing towards Emily.

"Yeah, just can't hold her liquor," Jake replied.

"And what about you?" Officer Taylor asked. Can you hold your liquor?"

"Try me and see," Jake returned defiantly.

"I think I'll do that as it seems I have a portable breathalyzer in the car."

Jake began to sweat. He hadn't counted on that. He hoped he was right about not having had too many drinks.

Luckily, for Jake, the test showed he was just under the legal limit. Feeling confident again, he started sassing the officers.

"Anything else you'd like to talk about tonight Officer's. Do I have any tail lights out? Was I driving too slowly?"

"How about we talk about why you are driving a stolen vehicle?" Officer Taylor returned.

"What?" Jake asked caught flat-footed.

"Yes. This car was reported stolen a few hours ago."

"Listen Taylor, you know as well as I do that this is my Mom's car and it is not stolen."

"That's not what my police report says," the Officer shot back. "Did you have permission to take this car?"

Jake faltered. "Well…"

"Exactly my point," Office Taylor replied, "and that in my book is the definition of stolen. Hands behind your back."

"You have got to be joking," Jake exclaimed. "You're arresting me?"

"Place you hands behind your back before I add resisting arrest."

The first tendrils of fear touched Jake as he put forth his wrists. Taylor cuffed him, tight.

Stanley, who had remained wisely quiet during the exchange, hesitantly offered his wrists to the second officer. "Not you son," Officer Taylor said to him. "I want you to take Emily home and then return this car to Mrs. Green."

"But…" Stanley started to say.

"No questions. Just do as you're told," the Officer commanded.

"Yes sir, only, I can't start… I mean I don't have the keys to the car," Stanley stated.

"You mean these?" Officer Whitehall said, handing the set to Stanley.

"Hey," Jake said narrowing his eyes as he started to smell a setup. "How is it you just happen to have my Mom's keys in your pocket? I'm being set up aren't I? This is all my Dad's doing. I did nothing wrong. Let me go!"

The Officer ignored Jake's outburst dragging him towards the waiting police cruiser. Jake struggled to break free. The policeman slammed him face first, over the hood of the car. "I suggest," he growled in Jake's ear, "you knock this off and come quietly before this gets out of hand. Do we have an understanding?" he asked pushing Jake's cuffed hands up his back wrenching his shoulders.

Jake, the wind knocked out of him, nodded meekly.

Taylor roughly pulled him up and marched him around to the back seat of the police car. Placing a hand upon the top of the boy's head, he shoved him into the seat. "Not a peep out of you." Jake's eyes threw daggers but his mouth remained shut.

"Good." The officer slammed the door soundly.

"Home!" he admonished Stanley.

With that, the Officers climbed back in their vehicle and took off in a cloud of dust.

Stanley watched as the back of Jake's head grew smaller and smaller. Who'd have ever guessed things would go this wrong.

5

Jake walked sullenly between the two officers into the Sheriff's portion of Jericho's City Hall. The lights were dim since it was after midnight and only a skeleton crew was manning the desk.

"The person who does the booking is gone so you'll have to wait until morning to be processed," Taylor announced as they passed by a series of deserted desks.

"Don't I get a phone call?" Jake inquired.

Taylor chortled. "I'm not letting you wake up anyone. What you have to say can wait until the morning." Stopping in front of a jail cell, the officer opened the door and motioned inside. Once in the cell, Taylor removed the cuffs. Even though his wrists hurt from the tight metal bands, Jake was determined not to give the officer the satisfaction of seeing him rub them for relief. Taylor swiftly slammed the door shut and Jake winced at the hollow sound of metal against metal. It sounded so final.

"Have a goodnight kid," Taylor chuckled as he haughtily strolled away.

Jake stared at the Officer's receding back until he was out of sight. Even then, he continued to stand still staring expectantly down the empty hallway. When it truly sank in that no one was coming back and they meant to leave him here, he slowly made his way over to the bench along the wall and sat down.

Jake emotions were wavering between anger and fear. For all the stunts he pulled in the past, he'd never been thrown in jail. Even though he was sure his father was behind this, he wondered how far the old man would let this charade go. Would they really prosecute him for taking his own mother's car? He leaned his aching head against the cool wall as an involuntary shiver ran through his thin frame.

'Stop it Jake,' he commanded himself. 'You are psyching yourself out.' His eyes kept roaming to the cell door. He was locked in, at the mercy of someone else to let him out. He really did not like what he was feeling. Unconsciously, he started taking rapid breaths. Bursting off the bench, he paced the confined space like a caged animal.

Damn his father for doing this to him!

When he was a little kid, his Dad had been his best buddy teaching him how to fish and hunt and all sorts of neat things. The old man was strict at times and hard on Jake, but that was Johnston Green. You don't become an Army Ranger and long-time Mayor of a town by being a pushover. Johnston liked order and discipline in his life and his sons. When he said jump, the answer he was expecting was 'how high sir?' The only person this did not apply to was Gail, but they had their own complicated system worked out.

Little Jake had felt his Dad loved him and was trying to model him into the best man he could be, so Jake tried to be the good soldier his father expected. But as he grew older, and occasionally tried to breakaway from his father's ideas, do things his own way, his dad had come down hard on him. It became Johnston's way or the highway and eventually Jake came to realize he preferred the highway. A self-fulfilling prophesy bloomed where the more Johnston tried to bring his son back in line the harder Jake rebelled.

Over the years, the battles grew worse and mentally bloodier. For the sake of Gail, whom they both loved, the boy and the man attempted to remain civil in her presence, but it was pretence at best and they all knew it. When Jake and Johnston were in the room together, you could cut the tension with a knife.

Jake's mind came back to the present. His aggravation level, fueled by his musing, caused him to lose it and he began slamming his fist into the cement wall in frustration. He wanted out of this town so badly. He wanted out from under his father's rule. What would it take!

Pain finally reeled in his senses as he realized he'd scraped the skin off his knuckles and blood was now running down his hand. 'Damn town!' he thought. 'I hate this place!'

His eyes locked on a small cylindrical object on the cement floor. Bending over he discovered it was a nail, left over from a recent construction job. With his good hand, he reached down and scooped it up.

'Guess it is a good thing I am not a real criminal or I might now have a dangerous weapon in my possession,' he mused. He rolled the nail around in his hand as he walked over to the wooden bench. Gasping it by the head, he started stabbing it repetitively into the wood. Somewhere along the way his stabbing became gouging and his gouging eventually took the form of letters. By the time he was finished he had written, "Screw this town. Jake Green '92" on the bench.


	6. Chapter 6

"You are planning to let your son out of jail aren't you?" Gail pointedly asked her husband.

Johnston answered from behind the newspaper he was reading at the breakfast table. "Eventually, I suppose."

Gail slammed a few more pots about the kitchen to indicate her displeasure.

"Do you have more to say dear, or is the china in the dining room going to get your loving treatment next?" he asked from behind his paper wall.

Gail marched over and ripped the newspaper from his hands. "Hell yes I want to talk about it! You have our son locked up in jail! What were you thinking?"

Johnston folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in the chair. "I was thinking I was giving him a good taste of where he is headed if he doesn't shape up."

"But jail Johnston," she said mournfully shaking her head.

"It is not like I have him locked up with a bunch of murders and thieves for crying out loud. He is in a jail cell, our little local jail cell all by himself. What possible harm could he come too?"

"You think this is good for him? You think that this is teaching him some sort of lesson."

"Yes I do. That is exactly what I think."

"Well let me tell you what I think Johnston. I think you just drove the final nail into the coffin that was once your relationship with your son. I think you have just given Jake the excuse he needs to leave this town and this family, for once and all."

Johnston pushed back and rose from his chair in annoyance. "You are making too much of this."

"Oh, I don't think so," she answered in a measured tone.

Johnston shook his head and left the kitchen. "I'll see you later."

Gail stood there until she heard the front door slam. Sinking down into the chair, she lowered her head and began to sob.

6

The little bit of remorse Jake felt in the wee hours of the morning had long since vanished with the rising sun. His head ached, his hand hurt, he was tired, hungry and he felt like an animal on display at the zoo. It seemed a dozen or more people had found some excuse to have business down by his cell so they could get a glimpse of the Mayor's son behind bars. By the time his father moseyed down the hallway towards his cell in the late afternoon, ill-humor was no where near the right term for Jake's mood.

Jake wasn't stupid. He knew the old man had arrived about 8:00 in the morning and now, six hours later, he finally decided to put in an appearance. 'Making me wait,' Jake thought bitterly. 'You think you are teaching me a lesson. Well just wait until I get out of here.'

Finally, Jake heard the all too familiar boot heels clicking down the hall. They stopped at the cell door but Jake deliberately kept his head bowed, refusing to acknowledge his father's presence. The minutes crept by.

"If you want, I can leave and come back later," Johnston said flatly.

"Your call," Jake answered coolly, not looking up.

"Would think by now you'd be anxious to get out of this cell."

"Think again."

More minutes ticked away. Suddenly Jake sprang from the bench to stand toe to toe with his father, one on the right side of the bars and one on the wrong. "Why did you do this?" Jake vehemently hissed at the man.

Johnston's face remained passive. "We're not doing this here." Without taking his eyes off his son, he motioned to the deputy who was standing nearby. "Open the door please." The deputy stepped over and performed the requested action. Jake stood motionless as the door opened. "My office," Johnston commanded turning away and striding up the hallway.

Jake stood unmoving. After an internal war with himself on what to do, he grudgingly trudged down the hall in his father's wake.

Johnston waited by the door to his office and when both were inside, he closed it with a decisive click.

"Do you want a drink of water?" Johnston queried. Jake made no reply staring defiantly at his father, arms crossed on his chest. Johnston shrugged and poured himself a glass.

"What happened to your hand?"

"You had me arrested," Jake growled, low and dangerously.

"Technically, that is incorrect. I had you placed in jail but since I did not press charges, there is no 'arrest'".

"Semantics," Jake shot back.

"And those semantics are keeping you from having an arrest record!"

"This isn't 'Scared Straight' Dad. Your little stunt is not going to change me. I hate this town and I hate you!" The words flew unbidden from Jake's lips. The air suddenly felt like a humid, hot summer day just before a thunderstorm, oppressive and highly-charged.

Johnston put down the glass of water he had been holding. "I love you son."

Jake's mouth dropped open and he stared at his father in disbelief. "How can you stand there and say you love me! You just had me arrested for driving Mom's car!"

"Jailed, and you did not have permission to use her car. You were grounded and you chose to disobey. Every action has a consequence and you'd better start thinking things through or someday you are going to get yourself in a situation you can't handle."

"Don't worry about me. I can handle myself."

Johnston snorted. "Son, you have no idea how to handle anything, let alone yourself."

Seething, Jake fired back, "Wait. Some day I'll prove you wrong."

"Well son, I look forward to that day, but in the meantime we are going to 'handle' things my way." Without warning, Johnston slammed his hands down on the desktop upsetting the water. "I won't tolerate your behavior anymore! I'm I making myself clear?" he barked, intense anger showing on his face.

For the first time since he was a little boy, Jake was scared of his father. He saw something in his father's eyes he'd never seen before; a simmering rage, that, it seemed to Jake, his father was barely keeping in check. As his father took a step closer to him, Jake felt compelled to take a step back.

"Now you listen and you listen good. I am still your father, you are still my son and here's how we are going to play this out. You will go to school, EVERYDAY. You will be respectful to your teachers, stay out of trouble and get good grades. You will graduate in June. You will stand there in that silly cap and gown and make your mother and me proud. Got it so far?"

Jake nodded mutely.

"Good. In the three months, until you do graduate you are grounded. You will stay home and you will do your damnest to figure out what it is you want to do with the rest of your life. And when you do figure it out, we will determine how to achieve it. Now, go home and get cleaned up. Your mother is worried sick."

"Dad, I…" but Johnston held up a hand to silence his son. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Go home."

"But Dad…"

"GO HOME! There is nothing you could possibly say that I am interested in hearing. You are the biggest disappointment I could ever imagine." Johnston could have bitten his tongue as those words slipped past his lips. He hadn't meant to go that far.

In that instance, Jake's self-esteem was wiped out and for the next fifteen years of his life, he would try to prove he was not a screw-up and try to find a way to regain the love and respect of the one man he claimed to hate… his father.

The End


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